


Consequently

by Ladyfae (Ladysaille)



Series: Shadows Beckoning [5]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25622179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladysaille/pseuds/Ladyfae
Summary: A part of Angel's past returns and Willow pays the price.The rescue operations leads to revelations for slayer, vampire and witch.
Relationships: Angel/Willow Rosenberg
Series: Shadows Beckoning [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1845043
Kudos: 7





	Consequently

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters herein. They belong to BVTS and its creators Joss and WB. Don't hurt me for borrowing them. They needed to come out and play...

Buffy:

The silence was too damn empty. The sunlight blinding. The daylight should have calmed me, but the knowledge of where we were headed wouldn’t allow it. I didn’t want to be doing this. Not after everything that had been said and done, but we were at a loss. Willow was gone. I didn’t want to ask him, but everything I had learned since we realized that Willow was missing pointed to the fact that she had been spending a lot of free time with Angel.

I didn’t want to think about the implications of Willow, of Willow and Angel, of them spending time together. I was angry, she was mine, how dare he try to take her from me. My friend, he wouldn’t even know Willow if it weren’t for me, and now she spent enough time with him, that we had to seek him out in hopes of finding out just how long Willow had really been missing.

So much had happened, the Hellmouth had exploded. Activity through the roof, and then just as suddenly the activity had quieted down. Angel had moved, and only now did I know where he lived. Willow had known the entire time. Willow had known and hadn’t told me, Willow had been seeing Angel even though she had promised she wasn’t.

Though if I were honest, which I do try to be, Willow didn’t promise not to see Angel, we, Xander, Giles and I told her not to see Angel unless we were patrolling. We just assumed that because we had stated that we thought it would be better for her and us that she didn’t see him that she wouldn’t. It wasn’t like Willow to do things against our wishes. Or so we had thought it appeared, however, given the notes we had found in Willow’s folders that she had been doing more than just seeing Angel, she had also continued her magical learning.

She had gone way beyond what Giles had thought and what I had believed as well. I had never expected to realize that Willow was changing before our eyes, and we hadn’t even seen it. Now I was standing on Angel’s porch, Xander behind me. His hand resting on my shoulder, he seemed to understand how hard it was. Neither of us was looking forward to seeing Angel, there was no doubt that he knew of their attempts to keep him and Willow apart.

It was still light, and Angel wouldn’t be able to leave for a while, yet I knew that it would give us time to talk to him. I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with Angel when he learned that Willow was missing. I raised my hand and knocked on the door.

**********************************

Angel:  
The knock on the door was solid, and though I knew it wasn’t, I wanted it so desperately to be. The dream that woke me from slumber to horrific to contemplate left me with an unwavering desire to see Willow. The knock came a second time and knew no matter how I wished it, that it wasn’t her. My dreams had been teetering on the edge of nightmares for the past few days. Caught somewhere between the memory of her blood, and the terror of the actual moment. Something was very wrong. The feeling combined with the dreams had grown steadily worse until this afternoon's dream. Willow at Angelus’s mercy, the images so vivid and horrific, and wanted.

I was a sick bastard hungering for the reality that Angelus whispered to me. It wasn’t that he would harm Willow, it was simply that if Angelus wanted her, he’d take her, regardless of the trouble it would create for her. He wouldn’t allow her to deny the connection between us, he’d use it, touch it, play with it until she was as much a slave to the sensation as I was. Something was wrong, and it had brought the slayer to my door, and for once the demon and I were in agreement, it wasn’t good. Three days ago, when Willow left my side for the first time since Friday afternoon, I hadn’t wanted to let her go. The certainty that I shouldn’t let her go, my demon’s demand that I keep her had been more difficult to ignore than ever before, and now I worried I should have given in to his demands.

Pessimistic it might have been, but I couldn’t help myself, expecting the worst was a normal state of being when you lived on the hell mouth. I opened the door. I wanted Willow, but I knew it wasn’t Willow, not just Buffy, but Xander too. This was not a social call. Buffy just stared. 

The expression on Buffy’s face riled me, and I held back the desire to growl. Xander stood behind her hand resting on her shoulder, I raised an eyebrow at them.

“What can I do for you?" I asked, making no move to let them in. I didn’t want them inside my space, our space, mine, and Willow’s no intruders.

"Aren’t you going to at least invite us in?" Buffy demanded it was on the tip of my tongue to say no, only something in the look on her face caught me. I stepped back.

"Come in," I said and motioned for them to enter my home. Buffy walked in slowly, looking around, taking in everything, clearly treating this as a hostile environment. Strangely after the last few months, I no longer felt a twinge of pain at seeing her react like this to me and mine. I think it might have the company I had been keeping Willow had a way of making you comfortable with yourself. She seemed to accept me so completely that it became nearly impossible for me to remain unaffected.

Come on, speak, one of you open your mouth, and tell me what the hell is wrong. Where was Willow? Both fidgeted clearly, not wanting to be here. Whatever it was that had brought them to my door couldn’t be good. Buffy opened her mouth as though she wanted to speak. Then closed it without saying anything. I was starting to get angry. I knew I was being unfair, but I couldn’t help it, they had something tell me I knew it, but what it was I did not. The more they stalled, the more worried I got.

"Out with it already, what the hell is going on?" I growled. Both jumped with I spoke up, and Buffy finally spoke.

"When was the last time you saw Willow?" It wasn’t the question I was expecting, and for a moment I wanted to say that I hadn’t seen the hacker in a long time. Only the fact that I hadn’t been able to shake the feeling of dread I had since she left made me answer them truthfully.

"Three days ago."

"That’s the last time we saw her, now isn’t that a coincidence?" Xander asked, in no way hiding his dislike.

"Stop it, I don’t think Angel had anything to do with this." Buffy shot back at him, and I felt like a third person left out on this.

"Yeah, just like he wouldn’t ever hurt us. Am I the only one that remembers Angelus?" Xander demanded, I saw Buffy tense and the rage I had always felt at someone hurting her didn’t stir, I was surprised for a moment. "First you now he’s got, Willow. What happen dead boy get hungry, and she was handy." At his words, I felt my already tattered control slip a notch, and I growled angrily in answer.

Willow would have yelled at me. I could hear it in her voice scolding at me for letting him bait me, but I couldn’t help it. They were using her, and she was my weakness. "Did you simply come here to accuse me of harming her in some way, or was there something else you needed?” I demanded coldly. Buffy seemed once more surprised, I knew why they wanted my help that was clear. I was the one that knew Willow best now.

"We need your help to find Willow, we’ve not come up with anything," Buffy said finally I could see how much it bothered her to have to eat her own words. A part of me, a childish vindictive part of me wanted to make her beg for my help, only the very real danger to Willow kept me from doing it. I nodded curtly and looked toward the doorway, which they had carelessly left open.

"I’ll meet you at the library,” I said.

Buffy glanced at the door where the sun still shone outside. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Honestly, sometimes I seriously wondered about that girl.

“Tunnels,” I said absently.

She nodded in response, her expression contemplative. She was staring at something behind me. I couldn’t imagine what in the next room had caught her attention. I ushered them toward the front door and waited until it was closed. I threw the deadbolt and lock and headed toward the basement. 

I reached the library before Buffy and Xander, and I lingered in the stacks, trying to sort out the myriad of sensations the connection I had with Willow was feeding me. I hadn’t touched it, I’d tried my damnedest to ignore it since if formed, but now it might just save my darling girl’s life. I intentionally touched it, praying she would sense it, feel it, know I was aware of it, and her. I played the connection, glorying in the energy we exchanged. There were reasons blood bonds were so dangerous, and the addictive quality of them was but one. 

Buffy and Xander entered the library, and Giles moved into the central part of the library. His haggard appearance was a shock. Giles glanced toward the doors. “Did Angel reveal anything of use,” Giles asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

“He hasn’t seen her in three days,” Buffy said, her voice quivering.

“That’s what he says.” Xander echoed, his voice gave little doubt that he didn’t believe Angel’s words. Angel snarled silently. That boy was going to find out exactly how dangerous he was if he didn’t stop his foolishness.

I moved out of the stacks. “Deadboy,” Xander said.

I glared at the young man. I could smell Willow’s blood, and the scent was sending my demon into a frenzy. Our Willow had been hurt, and somehow her blood was in the library. I shifted my gaze to Giles, the Watcher held in his hand a tattered piece of parchment paper. The scent was coming from the smears of crimson on the page.

“It appears that someone is aware of your connection to Willow.” Giles’ voice was proper, cold, without emotion, but his eyes were dark with emotion. He still blamed me for Jenny’s death, and I understood that, and now he blamed me for whatever injury Willow received.

I grabbed the piece of paper, and I drew it closer to my face, a deep audible breath brought grimaces to the faces of the humans. For once, I was glad to be what I was because it told me everything I needed to know. The blood was Willow’s, and the handwriting I recognized. The knowledge of who held my little savior would have stopped my heart if it beat, but I wasn’t the one who was going to be facing him. My demon purred at the thought of violence, at the pleasure of reclaiming what was ours. That bastard meant to make my sweet girl pay for what I’d done fifty years ago.

Unfortunately for him, he didn’t realize what an error in judgment he’d made in taking someone that both man and beast thought of as theirs. Angelus hadn’t cared about rescuing the girl we’d freed from his grasp fifty years ago, that had been all me. Angelus would rend him limb from limb for touching Willow.

I had no time to waste, that animal wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her, and there were so many ways to hurt someone like Willow. I took the note and shoved it into my pocket, I spun on my heel and headed toward the library doors. 

"Where in hell are you going,” Buffy screamed as I breezed past her.

I paused for half a second, my eyes flashing demon gold. "To get Willow back," I answered shortly. I kept walking, slowing my pace only slightly when Buffy sprinted to catch up with me.

"You can’t go down there alone. They will be expecting you."

"They're expecting me, but they are going to get Angelus, Buffy’s eyes widened. I knew she was unsure of what to make of this. I wasn’t even trying to appear human, my demonic visage firmly in place. My demon screamed to stop wasting time with the slayer and find our girl. Drake challenged my claim, it didn’t matter that the woman in question didn’t understand the complexity of what we’d done when I took her blood into myself. She was mine, and the blood merely cemented the connection already present between us. She was part of me, her blood in my veins. Regardless of how much my demon hated its souled entrapping, it despised anyone taking what was mine, and Willow was Mine.

Following the sense of Willow through our bond was easy. The little witch was sleeping, or perhaps more worriedly unconscious, but it allowed our connection to buzz with the information I needed to follow her. Buffy’s gaze stayed on me as I moved. I tried to send calming thoughts along our fledgling connection, it wasn’t strong enough for actual speech, but if it continued to grow, it would be. Now it merely confirmed each turn I made.

I started to move faster, pushing myself, I could feel her now a tangible thing something I could grasp and grasp at it I did. I knew where she was down to the room in the lair. I had only to reach her before they harmed her anymore. I kicked open the door, announcing rather loudly my presence. Drake was expecting Angel, and I already knew he wouldn’t know what to do with Angelus. I walked down the main corridor as if it were my right. The late riser began to stir, woken by the door. It mattered not. Nothing was going to stand between myself and that which I sought.

********************************

Willow:  
The noise woke me, loud and welcome. With it came the certainty that Angel was near. I swung my legs over the edge of the makeshift bed I’d been given. As far as accommodations go, this could have been worse. While it wasn’t exactly the Ritz, and it came with a crazy vampire who liked to cut me with sharp objects, at least I had gotten a little rest since the last session. I was weak, blood loss would do that. The noise, though it was important. I wanted to concentrate on it. Ever since I’d been taken, I’d sensed something on the edge of my awareness, something I couldn’t exactly explain, and now I was certain that something was Angel. Angel would find me, and Angel would save me. Suddenly I was struck by the absurdity of all this, little Willow languishing in a room, held captive by some insane vampire that wanted to get back at Angel, because of something he’d done, and was certain that I was Angel’s. I wasn’t at least not in the extremely vampiric way my captor seemed to think.

The romance novel scenario was making me insane how many times had I been kidnaped threatened cut and harmed by nonhumans. Let’s see first there was Spike who I felt sorry for when I wasn’t terrified, then I lost Oz, then Faith goes renegade and tries to kill me add to that the fact that my mother wanted to burn me at the stake. I suppose it only made sense that befriending the vampire who was once known at the Scourge of Europe was bound to wrap me up in some of the darker aspects of Angel’s history.

The last time the Drake had been here, he’d taken great plans in explaining how much pleasure he took in cutting me. How delicious and powerful my blood was. I listened, couldn’t exactly help it, and when he asked if Angel made me scream, I knew he wasn’t talking about torture, at least not the kind that was currently being inflicted on me. Once, those words would have reduced me to a stuttering mess, but Angel was right, I was made of sterner stuff than even I realized. There was another little voice that wondered if Angel could make me scream.

I shivered, brushing my hand lightly against my neck, unsurprised when I caught the gleam of wet crimson on my fingertips. I still hadn’t stopped bleeding, though at least it was a slow trickle, vampire anticoagulant, was kind of a bitch, especially now that I knew they could just as easily close the wounds they created.

The room’s only door opened slowly, a hulking form filled the threshold, and for just a moment, fear gripped me. Angel, my senses screamed, but I had been manhandled hit and bloodied too many times to trust what my eyes were showing me.

"Willow," I knew that voice, would have known it anywhere, and before I could question the intelligence of my decision, I flung myself into Angel’s waiting arms. I didn’t even notice Buffy for a full five minutes. Angel drew me tightly to him, his hands sliding down my back, he lifted me, till my feet dangled above the floor, nuzzled his face into my throat. His mouth opened against my skin, his tongue brushing out to taste the blood that the latest wounds still sluggishly wept. Holy shit, Angel was taking my blood right in front of Buffy.

He let me slide down his body, his mouth brushed my ear, and his voice whispered, “Mine,” against the sensitive shell of my ear. Yes, I was his, but something in the hungry growl of his voice told me that it meant even more than I realized.

He cupped my chin and lifted until all I could see was his dark gaze lit by demon gold. Oh, Angelus, I realized I was staring at his demon. He leaned down, and for one moment, I thought he meant to kiss me, and the idea both intrigued and terrified me. But his mouth connected with my throat, his tongue gliding over the numerous wounds in various states of healing. I whimpered a strange combination of pain and pleasure, burning up my senses. The pain began to recede, and I realized that Angelus was healing me.

He lifted his mouth and stared down at me again. Thin lashes of red marred his pale lips, and I was struck by the sudden, almost inexplicable desire to kiss him, only the knowledge that Buffy stood only a few feet away from us, confusion holding her still for the moment stopped me. Angel’s hand carded through my hair, the familiar touch easing my worries. I wrapped myself around him, his body cradled mine with ease. He kept rubbing the fingers of one hand into the nape of my neck, while the other moved carefully over my body in searching caresses that sought injury and but must have appeared extraordinarily intimate.

“You’re safe.” He whispered, his voice oddly ragged. His lips brushed a kiss against my temple, and again I was caught by the intensity of whatever this was that sang between us. Energy, the connection is stirred at the contact and cascaded through my limbs, leaving me warm and safe.

"She won’t be if we don’t get going,” Buffy groused, and for the first time, I actually noticed the look she was giving us. It was concerned, confused, and hurt, her gaze kept drifting to the way Angel held me, his hands moving over my body. I turned my head back into Angel’s shoulder, snuggling tighter to the vampire. Buffy blew out an angry breath and stalked out of the room.

A vampire came out of nowhere in front of her, she shot out her fist connecting with its jaw and knocking it clear across the corridor before pouncing on it and cleanly staking it.

"Come on, we have to make tracks. They are finally beginning to wake.” Buffy yelled back at us. I ran to keep up with Angel’s hurried pace. I wasn’t aware of much about our flight till we had to go through the main corridor and the nasty eerie feeling I had whenever the master of this lair entered a room walked up my spine. I clutched Angel’s hand, fear freezing me in place.

A slow, easy clapping filled the air, and I felt sick. Angel glanced back at me, his eyes shifting demon gold for a split second. The strange bond between us shimmered with calm. He knew I realized suddenly. Angel knew it was a trap, and he came anyway. He brushed one hand lightly down my arm, his fingers tangling with mine for a brief moment as the last of my fear disappearing in the wake of his touch.

Drake moved into the light. His expression was rapturous. “She tastes like salvation.” He practically purred as he gestured to me. “Once I tasted her, I knew you’d come. How could you not, all that innocence, and passion and power rolled in that sweet package. So much more intriguing and delicious to unwrap.” He licked his lips in a way that made my stomach turn.

He stepped closer to Angel, his eyes flashing with his demon. Angel sighed, his expression blank, and I shivered, I’d seen that look once before, and I realized he was letting his demon take control. He reached out. Grasped Drake easily by the throat just as the other man began to speak. “Villain monologues are such a waste of time.” Drake flailed, his minions came forward, attacked Buffy, who quickly dusted one, and then the other.

“Think of the little innocent Angel. If you don’t put me down, the girl dies.” Angel glanced over his shoulder, and I sent him an apologetic look. Two well-built vampires now flanked me, and I had no idea what to do. Angel tightened his hold on Drake’s throat and threw the other vampire across the room. I darted toward the table on the other side of the hall, there were weapons there. I moved down the table, not knowing what some of the weapons even were before I saw something I knew would come in handy for me. I wasn’t Buffy, and I didn’t delude myself, but if I had a weapon in my hand, I at least could defend myself.

I ran over to the sword. It was huge and rather heavy, lifting it proved to be harder than I had expected, but once I had it in hand, I felt a strange sense of sureness fill me. I moved the blade before me in the air. I gasped as the blade seemed to speak to me, I stared at it as it began to glow in my hands, my first thought was to throw it away. Only something made me keep a hold of it. I heaved it upward till I grew more comfortable with the weight of it in hand, without even realizing really what I was doing being led by some unseen force. I arched the blade hard connected with a vampire that had been sneaking up on me, I hadn’t even seen it before I heard its cry and saw its dust settle. I stared in confusion at the blade in my hand, feeling its magic course through me like an old friend.

I tried to keep an eye on Drake as Buffy and Angel fought the demons, I was aware that eyes were on me. I shivered, Drake watched me, his gaze drawn to the blade in my hand. I glanced at it in confusion. It wasn’t particularly unique, just a heavy sword designed for combat. I’d seen pictures before, and Buffy even had a couple in her arsenal. Angel dusted his latest opponent and headed toward Drake. Drake’s gaze was riveted on me, so much so that he barely registered Angel’s initial attack. Unsettled, I drifted deeper into the shadows. Angel’s gaze followed Drake’s, and worry flared in his eyes for a moment, the only emotion I’d seen since he’d begun to fight, and Drake used his momentary lapse to smash his fist into Angel’s chin. Blood flew, and I realize that Drake had a weapon in his hand.

Angel growled enraged, he smacked the smaller vampire’s hand hard, the metal object slide across the floor. It looked like a set of brass knuckles. The edges were fitted with 2-inch spikes that would easily tear flesh. Angel gripped Drake once more by the throat, his rage and anger flowed through the connection between us, and with it a surge of possessiveness that confused me with its intensity. Angel held a stake above Drake’s heart. His gripe on the smaller vampire brutal. I stared, unable to look away. Angel’s free hand slide down almost like a lover’s across Drake’s cheek. “She’s mine, Drake, you should have known better than to touch what belongs to Angelus.”

Drake’s eyes widened at the sound of Angel’s true name sliding over his lips. Drake flailed, and Angel broke his arm with a sickening crack. He twisted the useless limb cruelly, drawing a ragged scream from Drake’s bloodied lips. I gasped as another vampire lunged at Angel. Angel turned and slammed his stake into the oncoming minion’s chest. What happened next was a blur, the vamp dust began to settle, and Drake thrust a stake toward Angel’s vulnerable chest. Without thinking, I swung the sword in a dizzying arch, and the blade sailed through Drake’s neck and landed on the floor with a loud clatter. The dust began to settle, and I darted toward Angel, who fell forward hard. The stake sticking out of his chest at an odd angle. The sound of the sword hitting the floor, distracting the vampire that was fighting with Buffy long enough for Buffy to thrust a stake home. She spun toward us, looking for any more danger, her eyes falling on Angel and me.

I was on my knees next to Angel, worriedly urging him to look at him. His demon in full evidence, he stared at me with demon gold eyes, and all I could do was stare back. Buffy moved toward us. “We’ve got to get out of here, guys.” She said in exasperation. We did, but what about Angel’s wounds? Angel reached up and touched the stake, grasping it, and tore it from its place and let it clatter to the floor. The sound loud in the quiet of the room. He leaned into me, nuzzling against me as I brushed my fingers worriedly over his face. I wrapped my arms gently around him, not wanting to cause him any undue pain. Buffy staggered over to us, reaching out she helped Angel to his feet, allowing the vampire to lean heavily on her. I draped his other arm around my shoulders, and we headed from the shadows.

****************************

Buffy:  
When we reached the library, I could see Xander pacing back and forth in front of one of the long tables while Giles sat at the table reading in a large book. Willow had insisted on bringing that strange blade with us. It shone in the moonlight as though it held an inner glow. She carried it with a familiarity that was utterly foreign to her. I never thought of Willow as being the sword toting type, but she insisted that Giles’ would want the blade. I couldn’t really see why. It was pretty and deadly if the vampires that bit it were any indication. Though what we would do with another sword was beyond me. Maybe it was special though, it clearly did something to Willow while she held it.

Of course, the girl walking next to us wasn’t the same Willow I’d always known, somewhere in the past few months she’d changed into someone else. Someone who would be comfortable with Angel’s touch. Not just his touch, but his mouth on her throat, his demonic face in full view. I shivered. Seeing that face still had the power to unsettle me, but Willow had hugged him tighter. Seeking comfort for the monster’s embrace.

I pushed open the library doors. Angel was moving better, putting less weight on me, and the arm he’d draped over Willow for support was now holding the Hacker closer. I wanted to know what was going on between the two of them because it looked as if they were a hell of a lot more than friends. His gaze was locked on Willow, he hadn’t even looked at me, since becoming more aware. I felt a slight twinge at that. I wasn’t used to being ignored.

Xander’s head came up as soon as the doors opened, and Giles right after. He looked worried, and I saw him literally soften as his eyes fell on Willow. Giles was more of a father to us than our own parents, where most of the time and it was true of all of us. Willow, whose mother was neurotic and Father ever absent, and my own absent father, Xander’s angry parents that tended to take it out on him. We all had less than stellar home lives, and Giles was our guardian and mentor in the shadows. I deeply appreciated that.

As I helped Angel into a chair, I watched as Willow hurried over to Giles, who engulfed the hacker in a hug. He held her for a long moment. " I am okay, Giles, I promise," Willow whispered as she drew back from the embarrassed Watcher.

She walked over to Xander, who clutched her into a hug that looked as though it might have crushed her bones. She smiled warmly at him and gently pulled away. I glanced at Angel sharply, I swear he growled.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” she said to me as she knelt in front of Angel. As soon as she was close enough, Angel’s hands were on her again. One settled on the side of her shoulder, the other in her hair. He urged her closer, and I was struck by the certainty that if they were alone, he’d be doing something far different than tentative touches. The energy between them was palpable, a living breathing thing that screamed connection, and belonging. Mine was what he’d told the other vampire, and my heart stuttered as all the meanings that statement had begun to fall into place. Willow might have been my friend, but whatever she was to Angel was something so much more.

"Are you, do you want me to come with you?” she asked. His head came up slowly, and I wished I could see what his usually soft brown eyes looked like at that moment because whatever she saw made her both blush and smile.

She reached up and touched his face, gently wiping away a stain of blood from his flesh. She stood after a moment, and I was sure that they had communicated something that the rest of us had missed.

She pulled the sword out of the makeshift scabbard and walked toward Giles. She placed the blade before him on the table. " I know this is sort of strange, but do you recognize this?": She asked Giles who studied the blade for a moment. He stared at it for a long moment, and I thought I saw the light of recognition flash in his eyes. He looked up at Willow.

"Where did you find this?" he sounded like she had handed him the greatest treasure, not an old silver sword. "At the vampire’s lair, there was other stuff, but this it seemed to call to me," Willow said clearly not telling Giles everything that happened. He looked interested, and glancing at Angel, he looked to Willow. "You should most likely take him home," Giles stated. Willow nodded, she moved back toward the weapon’s cage and retrieved a bag I hadn’t noticed had been laying there and headed over to Angel. The vampire stood, steadier on his feet than he’d been when we’d entered the library. His dark eyes trained on Willow. Part of me wanted to follow them, to see what happened, because the intensity between them was near its breaking point, and I was desperate to know what would be on the other side. I turned to Giles, "Should I follow?" I asked.

He shook his head. “No…”

“What do you mean, no? Am I the only one who saw the way he was looking at her, he’s hurt, and she’s food?” Xander cried out suddenly. 

As much as I hated to admit it, Angel wouldn’t hurt Willow at least not in the way that Xander worried, he might hurt me by giving into whatever it is that was smoldering between them, just waiting to catch fire, but not hurt her.

“Angel won’t hurt Willow.” I said I sighed before adding, “In fact, he risked his continued existence to protect her.”

Xander opened his mouth to refute my words, but closed it, sighing in annoyance.

“We need to go back and retrieve the other weapons, and I need to know everything that happened before your escape.” He asked he sounded like a watcher then interested more in what he and his had to gain than about us. I shivered slightly. Wondering what he was planning.

"They were, why?" I asked.

"Because we need the items," Giles said, and when he didn’t elaborate, I walked over, picked up my black duffle, and went about refilling it.

************************

Angel:

The walk back to my home was quiet, Willow glanced at me worriedly from time to time, and I prayed she’d forgotten what I said about her blood being powerful. It was powerful, and it still sang in my body, making me aware of her on a whole other level, and made my own thoughts suspect. When we reached the house, she fiddled with her book bag nervously as I tried to unlock the door. My fear for her made me careless, I couldn’t afford to allow my feelings for her, be the very things that allowed her to be hurt. If I got myself killed, who would protect her, then? I glanced at Willow as we entered the house, and the realization that I could have lost her hit me anew. I reached for her, but she turned away before my fingers could connect.

“I’ll get the kit,” she said and hurried down the hallway to the downstairs bathroom. I settled on the couch, arguing with myself. I should send her home, call Giles, even Buffy, and have them walk her home. I wasn’t sure it was safe for her here tonight. All I wanted to do was have her in my arms, close, closer.

She smiled when she walked back to the living room, first aid kit in hand. "You know this is becoming a bit of a habit." Her voice was nervous, but her smile warm as she opened my shirt with shaky fingers and went about cleaning the wounds. Her fingers paused in their task and carefully traced the exterior edge of the injury. She glanced up at me, our gazes locked, she breath caught, and I forced myself to remain still. This was Willow, mine. I needed to send her home before I did something, we’d both regret. She blinked and looked at he wound in my chest again. I followed her gaze, the once gaping hole looked as if it were days old now.

“You’re healing really fast.” She spoke softly, and I could hear the question in her voice. I shouldn’t answer, but just the memory of her soft flesh beneath my lips, her wrist, her throat earlier was enough to push me over the edge. I grasped her hand in my own and drew it gently to my lips. I pressed a tender kiss to the palm of her hand. Her large green eyes widened as she studied me in return. “My blood, even that little bit,” she whispered.

“Even that small amount,” I admitted.

Her eyes were bright, brilliant, the mind behind them calculating and curious. I could almost see all the thoughts running over themselves as she tried to make sense of the information she collected. “Why?” she asked. She glanced away from me and began to fidget.

I sighed and settled back on the couch. The movement caught Willow’s green eyes, and her gaze moved from my boot-clad feet to the top of my head slowly. As if she were seeing me for the first time. The expression on her face was curious as she took in my seemingly languid posture.

“I don’t know why,” I said finally, and I didn’t, had no idea what it was that made her blood special. I knew what made her special to me in general, that was disturbingly easy, a list that grew longer each moment I spent with her. The blood, though, was something I couldn’t even speculate on. Magic, I supposed. She possessed no shortage of it, and her blood had been willingly given both times.

She reached out and brushed her fingers lightly over the flesh just above the slowly healing hole in my chest. She bit her lips, her expression uncertain. “I have something I want to try. I’m not sure if it will work though with how quickly you’re already healing.”

I raised a brow, curious as to what she was thinking. She drew her hand back and grabbed the bookbag I’d forgotten she brought with her from the library.

“I made this a while ago, but it had to sit for at least three or four weeks before it was ready. So well, let’s see."

She held in her hand small 2-dram amber bottle, she took a cotton ball from the kit and slowly opening the bottle she placed the cotton puff on the top and turned it over. She flipped it back and drew it away. The liquid within was a deep blue color, and she leaned forward and placed the cotton against one of the scratches on my face. I felt a sharp burning that made me gasp and the feeling of firewalking my skin and then nothing.

I reached up and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. She smiled, reaching up and taking my hand in her own. I was struck anew by the sheer difference in our sizes. Her slender fingers so tiny where they wrapped around mine. She urged my fingers straight and turned my hand over. It stung the wounds that covered my knuckles and fingers. She took another cotton ball and doused it with the pretty blue liquid before she ran the damp cotton across my fingers.

I blinked. The wounds vanished. She proceeded to erase each one before tangling her fingers with mine and looking up to catch my gaze. She stepped closer, keeping my hand in hers. She took the same cotton ball and carefully began to rub the blue substance into the edges of the already healing wound in my chest. Little by little, the wound disappeared, leaving behind perfect skin. Her hand brushed across my sternum, and again I fought against the desire to drag her into my arms.

Our gazes locked as they had the library, and I caught the rise of color once more and the slight parting of her lips. Fuck it, I want, I’m so tired of not getting what I want. I almost lost her tonight. I swept her into my arms, settled her on my lap. Her lovely green eyes widened as I stilled. She glanced down, cheeks flooding with even more of that lovely color. Her breath caught, her tongue darted out, licking her lips. Her eyes closed for a moment as if she were trying to find her center in the maelstrom I’d created.

“Willow,” I whispered, rubbing the fingers of my left hand into the nape of her neck, her eyes fluttered, her gaze caught on mine. I leaned in, close, tasting each of her startled little exhales. Her chin lifted, her lips parted as she offered me her mouth. I teased, nearly touching, before drifting away, she made a soft disappointed sound when I denied myself and her the sweetness of a shared kiss.

I nuzzled against her nose, not allowing myself to taste her no matter how desperately I wanted it. The fingers she wrapped in the hair at the nape of my neck tightened each time my mouth teased hers.

“Angel,” she whined in response.

It was just a kiss, but there would be no going back, no undoing it, no pretending it hadn’t happened. I tangled my fingers in her long locks and tugged her mouth frantically to mine. So soft, her lips pressed to mine. Her little moan of surprised pleasure washed over me. Fire rampaged through my system as those delicate lips parted beneath mine. Teasing and filled with more sweetness than I deserved, she timidly responded, following my lead. I half expect her to push me away as the kiss continued only to have those sweet arms slid around me, completing this come to life fantasy that I was sure I would wake from at any moment.

She jerked her mouth from mine, her breath coming in sharp little pants. “What was that for?” she asked.

For a moment, all I could do was stare at her uncomprehendingly. Damp, kiss bruised lips, parted, begging for possession, I just wanted to drown in her. Her hand came up to rest on my forearm, her expression confused, but hopeful. Gods, what did you do, Angel? I closed my eyes against the reality of what I’d done. She wasn’t cringing in terror, which was better than I had the right to hope for, but the need for answers was evident on her pretty face.

“I couldn’t resist,” I finally admitted. I wanted her with a fierceness that worried me, my soul, and demon in complete agreement. The simple fact that every part of me craved this girl made her dangerous. I nuzzled her nose, “I almost lost you tonight.” I pulled her more tightly against me, content to hold her until the tiny tremors that shook us both calmed.


End file.
